


The Camera Eye: The Impossible Dream

by puss_nd_boots



Series: The Camera Eye [90]
Category: Nightmare (Band), 己龍 | Kiryuu
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 17:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: Sakito may seem to have done it all in his long adult video career, but there’s one dream he hasn’t fulfilled yet – making a video of a legendary gay erotic romance novel. His new lover Hiyori encourages him to make the dream a reality – but there may be even more standing in his way than he thought.





	The Camera Eye: The Impossible Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Kiryu are property of BP Records, Nightmare are property of Avex, The GazettE is property of PS Company, I own the story only. For the What Dreams May Come January challenge at vkyaoi, under which you have to incorporate dreams (either the nighttime or aspiring variety) into the plot.

When one had been in the adult video industry for as long as Sakito had, and had his level of success, you wouldn’t think to ask him if he had any dreams for his career – because it would seem he’d already fulfilled them all.

JAVA Award for Best Actor? He already had one. Best-selling lead performer of the year? He’d scored the honor twice. Recognition from the mainstream? He’d been interviewed on a couple of “real” talk shows as a representative of the gay porn industry. International following? His best-known video, Naked Love, had been one of the first Japanese gay adult videos to get an official subtitled-in-English release in the West.

To people on the outside, it looked like he’d had it all and done it all. And the most recent developments in his career – a new contract with PSC Productions, complete with an option to be a producer – just seemed to make the deal even sweeter.

But there was most definitely one dream left unfulfilled - making a video based on the renowned gay erotic novel, Don’t Say a Word.

Like so many other young men across the world, he’d come across the book when he was young and questioning his sexuality. It was originally written in French by a man simply calling himself Armand. The book had subsequently been translated into English by an early LGBT publisher, and then that translation had been re-translated into other languages throughout the world.

The Japanese version was never officially authorized and was supposed to be hush-hush, sold quietly through LGBT specialty stores – but it somehow managed to find its way onto the shelves of secondhand stores like Book-Off, which is where the teenage Sakito found it.

When he sequestered himself away in his room with it, often reading under the covers with a flashlight, he found a story that resonated with his young soul like nothing before. It was narrated by a man named Andre who felt unfulfilled despite having a seemingly perfect life – a beautiful girlfriend, a nice apartment, a good job in rock band management. He continuously found himself drawn to a pub called Le Paon – The Peacock – where the bar was tended by a beautiful young man named Philippe.

Andre admired the other man aesthetically – the opening 20 or 30 pages were filled with poetic descriptions of how he moved, how he spoke, the way his “tinted” hair flowed – and engaged him in conversation whenever he could. And then, one night when Andre’s girlfriend was visiting family, he found himself going home with Philippe, without really knowing why. Page after page of Andre’s steamy introduction to gay sex followed.

Throughout most of the book, Andre remained in denial that he was falling in love with the other man, despite the fact that he was sharing sex and conversation with him whenever his girlfriend wasn’t around. When she went away for a four-day business trip, the two men shacked up for a “sex-a-thon” in which they explored a variety of positions and techniques.

It all came to a head, however, when Philippe received a solid job opportunity in another city and announced he was leaving his job and moving – which forced Andre to confront his feelings. He admitted to his girlfriend that it was Philippe he truly loved, split with her and gave his notice to the band he was managing. He was going to put everything on the line for love.

When Philippe showed up at the train station to leave for his new life, Andre was there to meet him, and they departed together, ready to merge their new futures. There was an epilogue which detailed that they’d been living together blissfully ever since, that Philippe was happy in his new job and that Andre was now the business manager for an artist collective. The whole thing ended with one last explosive sex scene between them.

Sakito read the thing to ribbons, over and over. The sex was definitely hot – but the emotional connection between the men was also erotic in its own way. He masturbated to the steamiest scenes, of course, and also acted out some of them with lovers – most of whom were familiar with the work as well.

When he went into the adult video industry, he longed to make the book into a video. As his prestige in the industry increased, he tried going to producers and asking if they could get the rights – but he was always turned down flat.

“We can’t buy the rights. We couldn’t afford something like that. Only mainstream film companies get to film books like that.” Over and over, the same thing.

Indeed, the years went by and nobody else filmed the novel, either, despite its growing status as a landmark not only of erotica, but of LGBT literature. But Sakito never lost the dream of filming it, even if the prospect of it coming true grew increasingly dim.

* * *

He introduced Hiyori to the book early on in their relationship. He was actually surprised that the younger man had never read it.

“I mean, I’ve heard of it, but I never got my hands on a copy,” Hiyori said.

“Never?” Sakito looked shocked. “Not even when you were a teenager?”

Hiyori shook his head. “When I was a teenager, I was looking up yaoi online with a super-slow dialup connection. It took forever for anything to download.”

“Must be a generational thing,” Sakito said. So far, it hadn’t mattered very much that there were several years’ difference in their ages – but very occasionally, a reminder popped up. Like now. “Well, I’m going to remedy that right away. We’re going to Book-Off and finding you a copy.”

It took visits to a couple of outlets of the chain before they found one – the Shibuya Center store was fruitless, as was the Shinjuku East location, but in Shinjuku West, they got lucky. Hiyori flipped through it as they left the store. “So . . . this is the book you want to film?”

“It’s one and the same,” Sakito said. “But it’s more than that. It’s the book that made me realize that I was gay – and that I wanted to experiment sexually. If I hadn’t read it, I might have ended up in the same state Andre’s in at the beginning of the book. You’ll see what I mean.”

They went their separate ways afterward – Sakito had to meet up with a member of the industry press for an interview about his transition to PSC. He’d been informed that the interviewer was going to ask him about what he planned to do in the future and the terms of his deal. He planned to be veiled about the former (they really hadn’t decided on concrete plans for his first few films yet) and half-truthful about the latter. (It had been Sakito’s one condition that Hiyori be his co-star in his first few videos. He would have signed with PSC anyway, but he wanted to make sure he got the leading man he wanted. That wasn’t going to be public knowledge, though.)

As it turned out, the interview ran much later than he was hoping. He wasn’t able to text Hiyori until the next morning.

“Did you read any of the book?” he asked.

“I read the whole thing,” Hiyori said. “In one sitting, yet.”

“What did you think?” Sakito was genuinely curious.

He didn’t get a text in response to that. Instead, Hiyori called him. “I thought it would be easier to discuss it over voice,” the younger man said. “I liked it. It was damn hot – and a lot deeper than I thought it was going to be. It really was a love story – just a love story with a lot of sex.”

“What did you like best?”

“Sex-wise? The rimming scene. That was hot as hell. As for the story? The ending. I mean, Philippe was so genuinely touched that Andre was willing to go so far out on a limb for him. That’s real love, you know?”

“You see what I mean when I say it needs to be filmed?” Sakito said. “It’s a story that needs to be shared with everyone – gay and straight, male and female, Japanese and international. It would make the greatest video ever. And I can’t convince anyone of that.”

“Did you try talking to Uruha about it?” Hiyori said. “He’s usually very cool about suggestions. And he’d consider this book right up his alley. It’s a genuine erotic love story. That’s something PSC has always done very well.”

“I haven’t tried,” Sakito said. “Not yet.”

“Try it!” Hiyori said. “What have you got to lose? It won’t cost you any money – and I think Uruha’s so thrilled to have you onboard that he’ll give you whatever you ask for.”

“If he says yes,” Sakito said, “would you be interested in being my co-star?”

“Me?” Hiyori sounded genuinely surprised.

“Yes, you. You’d be perfect. You’re beautiful and sexy and you fit the character. Armand doesn’t say what color Philippe’s hair is, other than it’s ‘tinted’ - so your pink hair would fit.”

“But . . . they’ll probably want a bigger star. Someone like Subaru, or Yuuki, or . . .”

“You said that Uruha would probably give me whatever I want, right? Well, what if I insist on you being the Philippe to my Andre?”

“You would?”

“Oh, yes. Will you?”

“Yes,” Hiyori said, his voice taking on an excited lilt. “Oh, hell, yes!”

“That’s it,” Sakito said. “I’m talking to Uruha tomorrow – and hopefully, it will be a done deal!”

* * *

Unfortunately, it wasn’t.

“I’m familiar with the book, sure,” Uruha said to Sakito from across his desk. “And I’d love to be able to make a film of it. I even looked into doing it myself last year. But there’s just one problem.”

“What’s that?” Sakito said. “Money? I’d be willing to cut my salary for this project. I want to make this video THAT badly.”

“Legality,” Uruha said. “The Japanese translation that’s out there now isn’t an authorized translation. It was done from the English version by a bilingual LGBT activist. We could film it, sure – but that runs the risk of pointing a big, flaming arrow at the questionable legality of the existing translation. We don’t want to get the guys behind it in trouble.”

“I see.” Sakito looked deeply disappointed.

“Of course, we could always do something that’s CLOSE to the original story – our own film about a guy in denial of his sexuality having an affair with a hot bartender – but then, we run the risk of a plagiarism lawsuit,” Uruha added. “We could call it a porn parody, but if we play it straight? It’s definitely not a parody. Would it fall into the same grey area as doujinshi? It might, it might not. If it doesn’t, well . . . I don’t want to run completely afoul of the money men behind this company. We push the envelope with them enough as it is.”

“Thanks, anyway,” Sakito said, trying very hard to conceal his emotions – and failing. So much for the big dream, he thought.

“I’ll look into it further,” Uruha said. “Maybe there’s a loophole we can jump through. But don’t get your hopes up, okay? I promise you – any other ‘dream project’ you have, I can make it happen. But not that one.”

“I’ll let you know.” Sakito stood up, bowed, and got out of Uruha’s office quickly. The bleak winter weather outside seemed to match his mood. So even Uruha had tried, and been unsuccessful. Well, he might as well give up on the idea of making a film of Don’t Say A Word and come up with another idea, right?

Except he didn’t want to just come up with another film. That would be . . . just a film. No different from the tons of other videos he had done. Making a dream become reality was, well, magical. Where was the magic in just another routine production?

* * *

A week later, Hiyori and Sakito sat at Sakito’s kitchen table with their laptops, going through Amazon, trying to find another LGBT novel or manga they could make their co-starring vehicle. Nothing was striking a chord.

“They all seem so . . . ordinary,” Hiyori said. “I mean, even when you read the excerpts. Boy meets boy, boy loses boy, boy gets boy back . . .”

“It’s all written for a quick buck from the fujoshi market,” Sakito said. “Just the kind of thing Uruha would NOT want to do.” He clicked another link. “Maybe I should just have those guys that Ruiza is so high on come up with something – what were they called, Dragon something?”

“Codomo Dragon,” Hiyori said. “Well, that’s not a bad idea, really,” he said. “But I don’t know how busy they are – they’re kind of in-demand after the Ruiza video.” He began punching in another URL. “There’s an LGBT arts and entertainment site I’m going to check – they have a book review section. Maybe I’ll find something there that’s worth grabbing the rights to.”

He read the site in silence for a couple of minutes, and then let out a gasp. “Holy shit,” he said.

Sakito’s head whipped around toward the younger man – Hiyori didn’t curse that often. “What is it?”

“You wouldn’t believe the timing,” Hiyori said. “It seems that an authorized Japanese version of Don’t Say a Word is in the works.”

“WHAT?” Sakito practically jumped across the table. “Let me see!”

Sure enough, there was an article about a trio of “international LGBT classics” that were going to be translated directly into Japanese and officially published in the country for the first time – a German lesbian novel, a Spanish-language gay romance, and Don’t Say a Word itself.

“Oh, my God!” Sakito said. “Oh, my God, it’s going to be official! That means . . .”

“That means every film company in Japan is going to try to get their hands on it,” Hiyori said. “Uruha said the legality is why nobody’s done it until now. Hard Candy and Adonis are probably going to want to throw huge bucks at these guys.”

“Not to mention the gay pink film companies, who are a lot closer to the mainstream and would have a lot more pull,” Sakito said. “We need to get in before they do. Send that link to Uruha – right now.”

“It looks like the agents for all three writers are having a press event in Shinjuku tomorrow, at the Kinokuniya flagship store,” Hiyori said. He looked up at Sakito. “You could go there yourself!”

Sakito looked floored. “M-me?”

“Yes!” Hiyori said. “Talk to the agent in person! I’m sure he’ll have an interpreter! State your case, tell him how much you want to film the book . . . he’s got to respond if he sees how big a fan you are!”

“Well . . . I guess . . .” Sakito looked a bit nervous. For all his onscreen boldness, he still had times when he was quiet and shy – especially around people who were not in the porn industry. He had no problem stating his case to Uruha. This agent? That might be a problem.

“I’ll go with you!” Hiyori said. “We’ll talk to him together! How would that be?”

“You would?” Sakito said.

“Sure!” Hiyori said. “I want to be part of this video too, you know!”

Sakito hugged him. “You really are a gem,” he said. “All right, we’ll do it. And if he agrees . . .”

“WHEN he agrees!” Hiyori said. “Let’s think positive!”

“When he agrees, we’ll turn him right over to Uruha!”

“Yes!” Hiyori said. “The film is as good as made!”

Sakito could feel the excitement rising in him. If this really happened, if they pulled it off . . . his greatest career dream was going to be a reality. He couldn’t think of anything that could possibly be more exciting than that.

* * *

Uruha was informed of the plan, and he managed to get Sakito on the VIP list for the event by identifying him as the official representative of PSC Productions, which would allow him to ask questions of the agents afterward.

First, they had to get through the actual press conference.

It was a rather dreary affair, with all three agents reading statements from the respective authors they represented, which were translated into Japanese by interpreters. Armand’s agent – a rather stuffy-looking man which flecks of grey in his close-cropped black hair, grey steel-rimmed glasses and an equally steely grey suit – said, “After receiving worldwide acclaim, we are thrilled to be able to bring this novel to the Japanese public at long last. We hope it can be a landmark for the LGBT community here like it has been for people in the United States, Britain, Australia and other English-speaking countries through its English translation.”

Sakito could only think that the book was already a landmark here, for so, so many people. The fact that the agent wasn’t acknowledging the existence of the French-to-English-to-Japanese version confirmed Uruha’s suspicions about the shady legality of its publication.

When the statements were made, the moderator said, “At this time, we will entertain questions from the press.” Most of which were rather banal, asking about the size of the initial print runs, whether the books would be available in digital form as well and if any of the authors planned to personally visit Japan and interact with its LGBT community firsthand.

And then, a reporter asked, “Would you be willing to entertain offers from Japanese film companies looking to do adaptations of the books?”

“By all means, we would consider any and all offers from legitimate filmmakers,” Armand’s agent said. “My client would be thrilled to have his work interpreted by the Japanese cinematic community.”

Hiyori leaned over and squeezed Sakito’s hand. This is it, Sakito thought. I don’t see any representatives of any other film companies here – at least, not ones that I know of. We’ll be able to scoop the rights! It’s as good as ours!

When the last question was asked, the moderator said, “We will now have a short reception for the agents and the VIP guests. If you do not have a VIP tag, or are not the guest of a VIP, please vacate the area at this time.”

As the press and public filed out of the room, Hiyori squeezed Sakito’s hand again. “Go talk to him,” he said.

“I can’t!” Sakito said. “Not right away! I don’t want to seem too eager!”

“There’s no such thing as too eager in this case!” Hiyori said. “This video is your dream, right? It’s time to make the dream happen!”

The two of them inched over to the grey-on-grey man, who was being addressed as “Courbet-san.” He was talking to some book distributors through the interpreter, the group was laughing, and Sakito shifted uneasily from foot to foot, wondering how he was going to approach the agent.

Finally, the distributors moved on, and Sakito moved toward him, quickly. “Courbet-san?” Sakito said. “I’m Sakaguchi Takahiro from PSC Productions” - a rare use of his full, real name. “I’ve been a huge fan of Don’t Say a Word for years, and I’m very interested in making a film of it. I’m . . . I’m an actor-producer, and I plan to fulfill both capacities for this production. I will make sure that every aspect of the film does justice to the book – because I wouldn’t want to see anything less. I am sure our head producer-director will negotiate a more than fair financial compensation for the rights to the book.” He bowed. “Please consider this offer.”

Courbet-san examined him with a silence as steely as his glasses and suit as the interpreter relayed the words in French. Sakito swallowed hard.

Then, the agent let out a stream of words in a disdainful tone. Sakito’s heart sank. He didn’t want to hear the translation – he knew it was going to be bad news.

“He knows of your PSC Productions because of their work with Etienne St. Jacques,” the interpreter said – referencing the art filmmaker who’d “collaborated” with Uruha on an installment of his Seven Deadly Sins series, meaning he’d tried to get Uruha to do all his work while he took the credit. “He also knows it is a pornographic film company. He said they would only entertain offers from legitimate filmmakers – not pornographers.”

“But . . . but we intend to make . . .” Sakito said – but he was cut short by another stream of disdainful French from Courbet-san. The interpreter said, “Always, Armand and Courbet have had offers from pornographic film companies. The book is not pornography, no matter what the slipshod, bootleg translation from the English made it seem like. It will be made by legitimate filmmakers only – and your PSC Productions is not legitimate.”

“Oh, yes, it IS legitimate!” Hiyori said. “We’ve won a ton of industry awards! We go out of our way to do quality product!”

The agent turned to the interpreter and asked something. “He wants to know who this person is,” the interpreter said.

“Will you tell him what I said first?” Hiyori said.

“He wants to know who you are,” said the interpreter.

“My co-star,” Sakito said. “And if you’re not going to listen to what he has to say, then I’ll tell you myself.” His anger was making him feel very emboldened – he wasn’t going to let his dream slip away from him like that! “PSC is a legitimate company that’s won multiple award and produces quality product. What they produce has full stories that treat the people in them as human beings – not objects or sex dolls. That’s called erotica, not pornography. And the last time I looked? That’s how most people described Don’t Say A Word – as erotica. So before you look down on us, think about which book you’re representing.” He bowed. “Good day.”

Sakito turned around and rushed out of the building, Hiyori at his heels. “Are you okay?” the younger man said.

“I never thought I’d get that sex-negative, anti-porn bullshit from a representative for Armand, of all people,” Sakito said. “Doesn’t he know how much that book has enhanced people’s sex lives? Hell, doesn’t he know how many people are in the erotica industry right now BECAUSE of that book?”

“I know, I know,” Hiyori said, gently. “But I guess that he doesn’t know it.”

“All I wanted to do was give that book the video it deserves,” Sakito said. “And I got it thrown back in my face – with added shit.” He leaned against the wall of the nearest building, looking genuinely wounded. Well, how could he NOT be wounded? This was the end of a dream, in the nastiest way possible.

“He really doesn’t understand what the book’s about, does he?” Hiyori said. “It’s about sex, sure – but it’s also about finding yourself. And love. It’s definitely about love.”

Sakito suddenly reached out and hugged him. “You get it,” he said. “You get exactly what that book’s about. You saw the same things in it that I did.” He leaned his head against the younger man’s. “You really would have made the perfect Philippe.”

Hiyori hugged him back. “At least we tried – right?”

“Yeah,” Sakito said. “We tried.” That wasn’t much consolation right now.

“I think we should go to a liquor store and get a couple of bottles of something,” Hiyori said. “And then we should go back to your place, order a pizza, watch dumb stuff on TV and get trashed.”

“You do think a lot like me, don’t you?” Sakito said. Okay, he was still smarting from the loss of the dream – but at least Hiyori was making him feel a little better.

“I consider that a huge compliment,” Hiyori said. “There’s a store right across the street – let’s go there and then grab a cab.”

“You’re on,” Sakito said. Fine, he’d bury his sorrow for now in junk food and booze and the company of this wonderful person who he was getting to like more and more each day he knew him. He’d try to push off the full pain of losing his dream a bit longer.

* * *

An hour and a half later, the two of them were on Sakito’s couch, pizza box open on the table with a couple of slices left, glasses filled with a mixture of whiskey and Sprite balancing on either end. They’d thrown on a DVD of some mecha series or another and half-watched it while indulging.

“You know,” Hiyori said, “maybe it doesn’t matter if we’re not going to film that particular book.”

“Why do you say that?” Sakito said.

“Well, we’re still going to be working together, aren’t we?” Hiyori said. “I mean, it’s what both of us really want. And, yeah, I know we both wanted to play Andre and Philippe, but . . . if we play other characters, would it really be so bad?”

Sakito sighed. “Maybe.”

“We can get someone to write us another script in the spirit of the original, even if it isn’t the same thing,” Hiyori said. “The same sense of self-discovery and growing intimacy. I could talk to Mitsuki and Takemasa, they do the scripts for Kiryu Video. I’m sure they can come up with something we can use.”

“It’s not the same, though,” Sakito said. “I mean, I wanted to . . .”

“You wanted to act out the book,” Hiyori said. “You wanted to become Andre.”

“Well, yes.”

“We could always do that in private, you know.”

Sakito looked over at him, slowly. “You mean . . .”

“Act out the bedroom scenes.” Hiyori leaned over and linked his arm through Sakito’s. “Our own private version of the book. We could even film it for ourselves. Think of it as cosplay, in a way. Except we’re playing the characters with naked bodies, not costumes.”

“That’s a strange way to look at it,” Sakito said, laughing.

“Strange or not . . . it’s true,” Hiyori said. “I can be your Philippe, and you can be my Andre – even if it’s behind closed doors.”

 

Sakito suddenly felt a warmth spread through his heart. He’d been dating this guy for about a month, and already, he was starting to realize that hooking up with him at that year-end party was one of the best things he’d ever done. This relationship was moving fast – and he definitely wasn’t eager to slow it down.

“You’ve got a deal,” he said, leaning over to hug Hiyori – and nearly knocking over one of the glasses in the process. “Oh, shit!”

“We don’t want to ruin the evening,” Hiyori laughed. He leaned over and kissed Sakito, and the other man kissed back, warmly – which quickly because hotly, the two men opening their lips, deepening the kiss rapidly, tasting the whiskey and pizza on each other’s mouths.

“So . . . if you were serious about acting out the book . . .” Sakito said.

“Hmm?” Hiyori said.

“How about we do a chapter right now?” Sakito said. “You pick it out.”

“You’re generous,” Hiyori said.

“Of course,” Sakito said. “I always am when it comes to you.”

They jumped up, making sure they picked up their glasses on the way, and headed for the bedroom.

* * *

The scene was pretty much as it had been described in the book – clothes thrown in “ragged piles” throughout the room, a candle and a stick of incense burning on the nighttable, and the two naked lovers in the middle of the bed, kissing each other “to the point of breathlessness and beyond.”

Sakito pulled Hiyori closer to his body, letting his tongue thoroughly plunder the other man’s mouth, thinking that he couldn’t get enough of him if his life depended on it. The passion between them was a vibrant, living thing, and seemed to get more vibrant all the time.

Hiyori rolled over on his stomach, pulling himself up on all fours, arching his back and pushing his ass toward Sakito in an open invitation. Sakito grasped the lovely, firm flesh with both hands, squeezing it gently, pushing the two cheeks apart a little.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, softly.

“I want you to make me come,” Hiyori said.

“There’s lots of ways I could do that,” Sakito said. “All of which would be fun for both of us.” He reached around and found his lover’s cock, sliding his fingers up it, slowly. “I could do this, you know. I could just stroke this beautiful, hard thing until you moan and pant and beg me to release you.”

Hiyori let out a small groan. “I don’t know if it’s that . . .”

“Or I could suck this.” He ran his fingers along the erection again. “I could roll you over, and take this thing in my mouth, and move down on it, really slow, going deep, and then deeper . . .”

Hiyori sucked in his breath. “I . . . I want you to do everything. . .”

“Of course, I could fuck you, too,” Sakito ran the fingers of one hand along the cleft in Hiyori’s ass, the other hand still on his erection. “I could push myself into this ass bit by bit, until you feel like you’re so full of me you could burst, and then move in and out, harder and faster, until we’re both panting and moaning . . .”

“Oh, God!” Hiyori said. “Please!”

“Please, what?” Sakito pushed the fingers a bit further into the cleft.

“I don’t know!” Hiyori cried. “I want all of it! I just want to feel you against me! I want to feel your body!”

Sakito smiled to himself. His dirty talk had been a rough paraphrase of what he remembered from one scene in particular of the book. And now, he was going to go on with the action of that particular scene.

“I know just what I’m going to do,” he said. He reached over to the nighttable, pulling the drawer open and pulling out a bottle of lube and a dental dam. The lube got poured into the cleft, the latex got stretched over it.

He leaned over, touching his tongue to the rim of Hiyori’s entrance, and began to circle it, slowly. He felt his lover shudder a bit under him – Hiyori knew just what scene of the book it was, the one that was his favorite.

Sakito teased the opening more, pushing his tongue in a little way and moving it around, pulling it out, then pushing in again, rubbing back and forth, then gently moving in further, feeling Hiyori’s muscles start to clutch on the very welcome invasion.

He thrust the tongue in further, feeling his own cock swell and throb, resisting the urge to touch it. This was going to be all about Hiyori’s pleasure for now, how much he could make him feel good, how he could fuck him with his tongue.

Moving back out to the entrance again, he circled around and around, listening and feeling for reactions, any gasps and shudders – and when he heard one, he doubled his efforts on the spot, flicking his tongue over it faster, harder.

“Oh, God, yes,” Hiyori moaned. “Please, keep going, don’t stop . . .”

Sakito let out a small moan of his own as he pushed his tongue deeper, harder, filling Hiyori with something that felt soft and strong, moving it place to place, flicking back and forth over different sensitive spots, different bunches of nerves.

“It’s too good,” Hiyori murmured, his whole body writhing beneath Sakito’s, beads of sweat running down his skin as he panted and moaned and thrust his hips upward – which just made Sakito bury his face in him deeper, thrusting his tongue harder, curling it against a particularly sweet spot and rubbing slowly.

His fingers slowly moved over Hiyori’s cock, giving him an extra layer of stimulation as his tongue continued to thrust, to explore, to rub and caress him from within. The throbbing in his own erection was getting stronger, and he knew he was going to have to do something about it, the super-intimacy was driving him nuts . . .

He needed both of them to be fulfilled.

His tongue slid out, though he quickly replaced it with a lubed finger, pushing it far into Hiyori, much further than he normally would with an initial penetration, since he was so loosened up from the rimming.

“Yes,” Hiyori murmured. “Fuck me, I need it so badly . . .”

A second finger pushed in, both of them thrusting in and out, Sakito looking down at the other man, leaning over to place kisses along his back and shoulders. “You look so gorgeous,” he said as he spread the fingers apart, gently. “You feel so good inside. I can’t wait until my cock is inside you.”

Hiyori just panted, and whimpered a little, and moved his legs apart, begging the other man without words to take him, to fuck him, to make the two of them one. And Sakito pushed in the third finger, the tightness he was feeling just making his own cock throb all the more, making him wonder if he’d come before he got in.

Sakito was very quick to pull out his fingers, put on a condom and slick himself. And then, he pushed against the entrance he’d explored so thoroughly and lovingly with his tongue, moving forward little by little.

Hiyori felt like heaven. Tight and hot, seemingly shaped on the inside to accommodate Sakito just perfectly.

“Oh, God,” he murmured as he began a slow and gentle thrust, careful not to hurt him, but the feel of being caressed all over by Hiyori’s sweet sheath was making him burn, making his own need to come wild and urgent and intense.

He picked up the pace, moving faster and harder and deeper, gripping the other man’s hips as he pushed into him, and felt Hiyori thrust back against him, both of them moaning louder, breathing harder.

“More,” Hiyori moaned, and Sakito gave it to him, picking up the speed and the depth of his thrusts, just about plowing into the other man now, and Hiyori was gasping and whimpering and clutching at the bedding, his hips pumping backward against his lover.

And then, one hard thrust hit the sweetest spot within Hiyori, and he nearly screamed as pleasure exploded within him like a million fireworks. He arched back harder against Sakito as he trembled and the come poured from him, until he sank down to the mattress on his hands and knees, still panting.

Sakito gripped his hips harder and thrust faster, his whole body tense and burning up now, it was just going to take a little more, a little more . . . and then his climax hit hard and fast, and he let out a hoarse cry as his body shook with hot pleasure over and over, so incredibly sweet and intense, until he felt completely and utterly drained – but in the best possible way.

He reached for tissues to deal with the condom, tossed it away and collapsed atop Hiyori, the two wrapping their arms around each other and kissing, softly and gently. 

They snuggled together, holding tightly to one another. “I could reenact the whole book,” Hiyori said. “Bit, by bit, by bit.”

“We will,” Sakito said. “We’re going to go through it page by page. As much of it as you want. However you want to do it.” He leaned his head against Hiyori’s. “And I’m going to love every minute of it.”

Maybe, he thought, what I really wanted wasn’t to make a film of the book. Maybe what I really, honestly wanted was to find a real-life Philippe of my own. And in Hiyori, I might have found him. Time will tell, but if things keep going to way they are . . .

He leaned over to kiss Hiyori again – until the sound of his ringing phone interrupted them. Oh, crap, he thought, who is it, and can’t they just go away?

The phone kept ringing, so he reached for his discarded pants, yanked the device out of his pocket – and saw Uruha’s name. “Shit,” he said, quickly answering the call. “Hello?”

“Oh, good, I was about to give up and leave a message,” Uruha said. “You’re not going to believe what just happened.”

“After tonight, I’ll believe anything,” Sakito said.

“I know what happened with you and the agent,” Uruha said.

That took Sakito aback. “Really? I mean . . . how? I didn’t call you after the meeting.”

“I just got off the phone with Armand himself. You know, the author of the book?”

Sakito nearly dropped the phone. “WHAT? Why? How?”

Uruha laughed. “Well, I was talking to an interpreter, actually, but he was getting his words from Armand. Apparently, he’d had a conversation with his agent right after he’d talked to you, and he heard that you wanted to make a film of the book. He apologized for the way his agent treated you, and he wished he’d been there to talk to you in person.”

Again, Sakito was floored. “Are you KIDDING me?”

“No,” Uruha said. “He said he’s a big fan of your work, especially your film Naked Love. When he heard that you’d talked with his agent and the guy had loudly denied you permission to film the book, he kind of went off on him. So now he wants us to know that he’d be honored to have you interpret his characters and story on video. In other words – we have permission to do it.”

“Really?” Sakito said. “Really and truly? He – he said he’s a big fan of ME?”

“I wouldn’t kid about that,” Uruha said. “Of course, he said there’s a couple of conditions. Number one, we have to do a uniquely Japanese interpretation of the material. That means the film is set here, not in France, and we’re to use Japanese names for the characters instead of the originals. He said he is in negotiations with both French and American filmmakers, and he wants the Japanese version to be distinct from what they do.”

“That’s fine,” said Sakito. “Not a problem, he’ll get his Japanese interpretation!”

“And he wants the film distributed in more than the usual porn shops, which is not a problem for us, since we sell through Otome Road all the time. So . . . you want Hiyori as your co-star?”

“A billion times yes,” Sakito said.

“All right. We can have a meeting about this tomorrow. Congratulations – we’re going to get a spectacular film out of this.”

Sakito hung up and dropped the phone on the bed, slowly, still not quite believing what he heard.

“What is it?” Hiyori said.

“We . . . we have permission to make the video,” Sakito said. “Armand himself called Uruha – because he’s a big fan of my work. MY work.” He just let that sink in a moment. “I . . . I just can’t believe that the writer who was responsible for me discovering myself as a gay man likes Naked Love enough to award me the rights to his book!”

“We can make the video?” Hiyori’s whole face lit up. “We really and truly can make the video? Oh, my God! Oh, my God, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day! Year! Week!” He hugged Sakito. “And of course he’s a fan of yours! You’re special! Very special!”

“We’re going to do it,” Sakito said, quietly. The words were still not a hundred percent sinking in yet. “We’re making the film! I’m . . . I’m getting my dream . . .”

He was going to make his film after all. It still seemed too good to be true. And on top of that – he had his real-life Philippe. It was as if he’d gotten anything he ever wanted or needed.

* * *

It was decided that the character names in the video would be the same as the actors playing them. “There’s a reason for that,” Uruha said. “I want the sex scenes to be as natural as possible. I want you to forget the cameras and crew are there and just go at each other. And that will probably mean moaning and gasping and yelling each other’s real names.”

Uruha agreed he would direct the video himself, and he handed the screenwriting over to Jin and Saga – who were well aware of the importance of their assignment. “Holy shit, if we fuck this up we’ll be chased down the street with pitchforks and torches,” Saga said.

They didn’t do anything pitchfork-worthy, however. On the contrary, they created a beautiful screenplay that mirrored the spirit of the book in every way. Sakito knew when he saw it that he had his dream film – and that it was going to turn out just as good as his fantasies of it, if not better.

But he knew, when it came down to it, the real dream come true wasn’t the film – it was the man who was his co-star onscreen and was rapidly becoming part of his life offscreen. He was, in a way, living his own romantic-erotic novel now – and it was an experience he wouldn’t trade for anything.


End file.
